


The Nights To Follow

by tinyink



Category: Carnival Row (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-11 02:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20538773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyink/pseuds/tinyink
Summary: A series of drabbles in the nights to follow the Carnival Row season finale. Updates will be posted as I write them. Rated T just to be safe. Major spoilers for Season 1 Finale. Enjoy!





	1. Imogen

She ran her fingers over his broad chest, the sound of his breath and the ocean waves mingling in the night. They had been at sea for almost two weeks and Imogen could scarcely believe that this was her life now.

Agreus insisted they bunk together, as there was no point in pretending otherwise, in his quarters. A lavishly decorated bedroom with a small salon and bathroom- though nothing in compassion to his former residence- is where they spend most of their time, save for some meals and updates from the captain on their journey.

Imogen softly snorted. The idea of there even being a "they" would have seemed ludicrous not that long ago. Argeus' prejudice, as well as her own ignorance, caused them to erect walls around each of their hearts. Slowly, piece by piece, the walls had come down until only warmth and affection remained.

As Imogen placed a kiss on Agreus' cheek, he sighed and pulled her closer into him. Immediately, the action snapped her back to that fated night when her brother Ezra, damn him, had caught them in a similar position.

_"I will hunt you down!"_ His screams burst into her mind._ "An animal! He's a filthy animal and so are you!" _

_Ignorant, hateful bastard,_ she thought to herself.

A series of rapid knocks on the cabin door interrupted her thoughts.

"Mr. Astrayon! Sir! It's the Captain, I need a quick word!"

"Agreus. Agreus," Imogen gently shook his shoulder.

"Mhmmm?" he mumbled, cracking one eye open.

The Captain called again, "Sir, beggin' your pardon but it's rather urgent."

"Best to see what he wants don't you think?" Imogen whispered, softly tracing her finger down one of his horns.

Agreus mumbled to himself as he pulled on his bathrobe to answer the door. He pulled it open. The bulk of the captain blocked the deck lights pouring in from the doorway.

"Yes, what is it that couldn't wait till a decent hour?"

"We've just received this, sir," the captain's shadowy arm burst into the room.

Imogen sat up in their bed, pulling the blankets around herself.

"I see," Argeus murmured as he read what the captain handed him. "Who else has seen this?"

"The telegram officer and myself, sir."

"Can you count on his discretion?"

The captain pulled off his cap and worried it between his hands. "He's worked for me for a few years. He's a good enough lad."

"That doesn't answer my question, Captain."

"I don't know. I sent him off duty as soon as he brought this to me. Told him I'd cover the shift for the rest of the night...But Agreus that's a lot of money. It's enough to turn almost anyone's head."

"Drop us off at the nearest Fae friendly port and I'll double it. For both of you."

Imogen pulled her bathrobe on and strode closer to the door. In the dim light, the captain looked affronted.

"Agreus we've known each other for years-"

"And I know you well enough to know when you need some time away from the sea, old friend," Agreus rummaged in the nightstand next to the door and pull out such a large sum of money that Imogen had never seen it in cash. "The officer's is for his silence. Yours is for your safety."

"As you say," the captain nodded. "I know a port not far from here. We can be there and off by sunrise."

"We'll be packed and ready."

The Captain placed his cap on his head and nodded. "Good night then, sir. Ma'am."

When he had gone, Agreus loosed a heavy sigh and shut the door. Imogen wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his back. "What is it?"

"Your brother has offered a hefty reward for information on our whereabouts," Argeus mumbled.

"I was afraid something like this might happen."

"We'll face it. And him," Imogen paused. "Can the captain be trusted?"

"Most assuredly. I saved him from a rather nasty troll set on doing indecent things to him when we first met. The telegram officer on the other hand...Hopefully money will be enough to buy his silence."

Agreus squeezed Imogen's hand and brought it to his lips as he turned to face her. "Are you sure about this? Us? There's still time to go back and I can make my way from the next port-"

Imogen silenced him with a kiss, tender but firm. She opened her eyes and clasped his face between her hands. "I have never been more sure of anything than us. No matter what happens now we are in this. And we are no longer alone."

She rested her forehead against his, their breath mingling in the cool night air.

"We'd better get packing if we need to leave by sunrise," Imogen whispered. "The Martyr knows you leave your underthings all over the place."

Agreus chuckled and kissed her again. "Right you are, love."

_This is my life now,_ Imogen thought to herself as she lit a lamp so they could begin preparing for their departure. _And what a life it's going to be_.


	2. Tourmaline

Sheets of rain battered against the window of the Tetterby Hotel where Tourmaline took a drag on her cigarette with one hand and sketched in her notebook with the other. Recently, between clients, she had drawn less of her patrons and more of the people who were gathered on the Row-gathered being the kindest word for what was happening to the fae folk in the Burgue.

Looking through the heavy rain, Tourmaline sketched a young faerie that sat in the doorway across from the Tetterby. The girl held her hat in her hands, glancing up and down the street but avoiding eye contact with the errant passerby.

Three pucks stumbled out of the Roundtree pub just a little ways down the block. Two big blond fellows and one small dark haired one. One of them called out to the young fae in the doorway, her head jerking up at the sound.

Tourmaline also stood up from her couch, creeping closer to the window.

She quickly looked away, ignoring the continuing jeers from the three unsteady pucks. When their calls did not get a reaction, the smallest one chucked an empty bottle at the girl's head. 

Tourmaline rushes down the stairs and out the door before she could think too much.

"Oi, lads!"

The three pucks stopped tightening their circle around the girl as Tourmaline stormed out. Tourmaline glimpsed the girl's terrified stare though the legs of the littlest puck. She hadn't even stood up.

Saints above this one wouldn't last long.

"That's my sister you're messing with. Piss off, why don't you?"

Tourmaline jerked her head at the girl and held out her hand. "You went down the south side of the street. I'm on the north side, didn't Da teach you anything?" 

The girl stood up. Her brown eyes warily traced over Tourmaline's blue hair and scanty outfit. The rain didn't help to be sure.

_ Better me than this lot _ , Tourmaline thought. _ C'mon girl, don't be daft. _

The biggest puck held out a beefy hand to block the girl's path. The girls eyes widened and her wings twitched. As if flying would do any good in this forsaken place.

"Sister, eh? What's her name then?"

"Lisette," Tourmaline lied. 

"Lizzy for short," the girl piped up. 

_ There's something. _ Tourmaline reached out and grabbed the girl's hand, practically dragging her away from the drunken fauns.

"Now as I said, piss off," Tourmaline called over her shoulder as she and 'Lizzy' ducked into the Tetterby. Catcalls and insults followed from the pucks outside. Tourmaline hurried the girl into the kitchen next to the fire.

"Take your stockings off, it'll help warm your feet," Tourmaline ordered as she spooned stew into a chipped bowl.

The girl sat on a stool and did as she was told. She kept furtively glancing around the room as if she expected them to be set upon at any moment.

"No one'll get you in here, girl," Tourmaline pulled a stool up opposite the girl and shoved the stew in her face. The young fae was slight with scraggly brown hair and purplish bruising beneath her eyes. Not quite fresh off the boat, but certainly not used to the Row. "What's your name then, Lizzy?"

"Jesmin," the girl breathed put between mouthfuls of stew. 

"Jesmin, what're you doing out this time of night?" 

"Got lost. Ma sent me out for bread hours ago but I took a few wrong turns."

"And you decided to sit right outside the Roundtree pub? Damn girl, at least stop and ask for directions," Tourmaline fumed.

"Wasn't anyone out."

"Cuz they're smart enough to stay home. What's your address, then?

Jesmin told her. Tourmaline sighed. It was clear across the other side of the Row. There was no way she would make it back safely tonight.

"Listen, I've got to get back to work. Don't steal nothin', stay out of sight, try to get some rest, and I'll bring you home in the morning."

Tourmaline slipped up to her room to get Jesmin a blanket, smiling and flirting with the patrons as she did so. On her way back down, Moira stopped her.

"I'm not running a charity house, Tourmaline."

"She was about to be set upon by some arseholes coming out of the Roundtree pub, Moira, what was I supposed to do?" 

"Mind your own business, that's what." 

"Protecting our own _ is _ my business."

Moira pinched the bridge of her nose. "That bowl of stew will be coming out of your pay."

Tourmaline kissed her cheek and hurried to the kitchen…which was empty.

"Jesmin?"

The girl stuck her head out of the closet. "The pink-haired woman saw me and I-"

Tourmaline waved her off. "It's fine I talked to her. Just don't make it a habit to go out around dark anymore, yeah? Learn your neighborhood during the daylight hours so there's none of this."

Jesmin took the blanket from the other fae's outstretched hand. "What's your name?" 

"Tourmaline."

"Thank you, Tourmaline, for everything."

"Get some rest girl and you can thank me by staying closer to home."

Tourmaline closed the kitchen door and took a deep breath before plastering a seductive smile on her face. Just another night at the Tetterby Hotel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you were thinking this was just Agreus/Imogen but the other characters have been resonating with me as well. Enjoy!


	3. Runyan Millworthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter contains a slight trigger warming for Sophie Longerbane and Jonah Breakspear's interactions, mostly because she creeps me out. If they are not your cup of tea, come back in a few days for more Agreus and Imogen. Thank you all for the continued love and support! End A/N.

Shuffling his papers into a stack of some semblance of organization, Runyan Millworthy tossed his pen onto the large oak desk and twisted his sideburns absentmindedly around his finger. 

An honest man, that's what the new Chancellor asked of him. An honest man who knew nothing about this huge realm of politics. Especially politics in this changing world.

Runyan poured himself a large glass of whiskey from the crystal decanter on his desk. Taking a swig, he stood up and dimmed the lights in his office. 

How can honesty cut through innumerable layers of scheming and lies? The corruption and hatred in this city ran bone deep, no matter whose bones they were.

_ Was it honesty Jonah wanted? _ Runyan wondered as he meandered down the hall to his room. _ Or someone to placate him? Or vain attempts to curb his worst urges? Power changes the best of men and Jonah is as flawed as they come. _

Laughter spilled out into the hallway from the Chancellor's office. Low lighting filtered out into the hallway and Runyan stopped short.

Sophie Longerbane sat on the Chancellor's desk, lounging back as if she were on holiday instead of business. Runyan's old ears couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but Jonah's cadence was calm. Tension from the last few days long gone. 

Jonah stepped in front of the cracked open door, blocking the light and Runyan's view. The older man heard the clink of glasses and then a long silence.

Runyan took a step toward his own room, slightly embarrassed at standing so long, when suddenly he heard Jonah snap, "I told you, _ no _!"

The door flung open and the Longerbane heiress stormed out of the room. Her nostrils flaring, she spotted Runyan standing outside the doorway.

Knowing he couldn't pretend to be doing anything other than what he was doing, he nodded deeply. "Miss Longerbane."

"Mr. Millworthy, good evening," she spat as she continued down the hall toward the exit.

Turning away from her shrinking form, Runyan peeked back into the Chancellor's office where Jonah sat at his desk, head in his hands.

"Come in Runyan," the young man said without looking up.

Runyan quietly stepped over the threshold into the office. "Not politics of the city, I hope?"

"Nothing quite so simple I'm afraid," Jonah responded as he gazed into the dying fire. "What do you think of her?" 

"The Longerbane heiress has taken to power graciously and ruthlessly. I imagine her other pursuits- perhaps due to her isolated upbringing-lack the grace."

"That's one fucking way to put it," Jonah drank deeply from his glass.

"Is there a way to keep her political alliance while thwarting her…other pursuits?"

Jonah snorted. "If I figure it out, I'll let you know."

"Make sure her alliance is what you want, Jonah. Her vindictive and ruthless nature are not to be trifled with."

"You think I don't know that?" Jonah's eyes snapped up. "It's not about what I want. It's about what the city needs. They need unity. And her anti-Critch stance has united the people of the city."

"Except the people on the Row. Some were born here, law abiding folks, raised in the Burge, and she's created a ghetto for those people," Runyan quietly interrupted.

"They'll get what they need. Housing, work, food-"

"Except freedom."

"The price of peace I'm afraid."

"If you let this continue, we are worse than the Pact," Rycroft countered. "Instead of a quick death in a war, you damned them to a slow draining of hope, which can only end in their demise." Runyan bowed his head. "Is it worth it? Something to think about. Goodnight, Chancellor."

Jonah said nothing as Runyan closed the door, only stared deeper into the embers.

  
  
  



End file.
